


Underhanded

by persesphone



Series: Peter/MJ Future AU [4]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Dinner, F/M, Family Dinners, Future Fic, PeterMJ - Freeform, Short Fic Prompt Fill, Spideychelle, for once in his life peter wants may to not ask so many questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persesphone/pseuds/persesphone
Summary: Michelle and Peter have dinner with Aunt May while Michelle teases Peter under the table until he can’t take any more.





	Underhanded

In retrospect...it could have gone _better_ , probably. Presumably.

May has been planning to make a visit to their new small apartment in New York ever since it was revealed that the decision was a definite go. And she has squealed, insisted to help decorate, move the furniture, and applaud that she’s always knew they would end up together—May is probably the biggest rooter during the growing embers of he and Michelle’s relationship—and he rolls his eyes every time she mentions it.

Tonight, however, is the night he had scheduled for May to be over for the dinner she insisted. Which is fine and all, especially since Peter made her promise to not bring any meatloaf or casserole of any kind, also _free food_.

There are only two inconveniences with this situation.

One—steamed buttered broccoli, a pot of hand-mashed potatoes, and bread rolls are sitting, covered, on the stove; Michelle is being pressed to the counter, fingers curling tighter around the covered, on the stove; Michelle is being pressed to the counter, fingers curling tighter around the edge as Peter kisses down her spine, pressing flush against her. she moans at his hands sliding across her hips, she lifts up on tiptoes and begins leaning forward on the counter, taking notice to press her ass to feel his growing hard-on, and she _smirks_ at the groaning in her ear. It’s with Peter’s mouth against the back of her neck, her breathing growing heavy, and paying attention to both of their crotches does inconvenience number two pop up.

Just as Michelle hops up on the counter, wrapping her legs and arms around Peter as he kisses her, teasing and with tongue, his hand sliding down to work her arousal, a knock comes to the door.

Glancing at the stove clock, May isn’t supposed to arrive for another twenty minutes—Michelle rushes to throw on a shirt as Peter takes a moment before opening the door and plastering a smile on his face. He could have sworn he’d gotten off the phone with her all of ten minutes ago.

May greets him with a genuine smile and a large pan covered in tin foil.

As said, in retrospect, maybe it all could have gone a little better—their timing should have been better and Peter shouldn’t bite his lip ever single time he so much as _looks_ in Michelle’s direction, and so she wouldn’t be having these _thoughts_ about his mouth on her neck, wishing his hands between her thighs.

It's now an hour later.

At the table, May laughs at whatever Peter has said—Michelle isn’t sure what, isn’t paying attention—and yanks her from her daydream; Michelle forces a convincing smile, piercing one of her pieces of smoked salmon in a sauce made from whatever new recipe that’s captured May’s attention.

The woman turns the conversation to Michelle, the topic changing to living together in an apartment. They tell that aside from an upstairs neighbor who smokes cigarettes, the neighbor downstairs with nosey children visiting every weekend, and the occasional burned dish, there hasn’t been any problems.

For the time being, May smiles, and they eat in silence, listening to Jeopardy in the background, and Michelle almost welcome the silence until she notices the hesitant glances Peter gives her way every few minutes. They all sit in positions to still be able to see the television but converse successfully.

She stares, waiting until he looks over again, and he looks away almost guilty when he does, bites his lip again and stuffs a broccoli floret in his mouth when she raises a questioning brow.

At the table, May tries and fails to guess the right answers alongside the contestants on screen. Also at the table, Michelle reaches across to grab Peter’s hand, asking if he’s alright. His nod is stubborn and rushed, forceful, and she catches his eyes again which dart to a different direction. Shifts in his seat.

On screen, an anatomy question is chosen. Michelle watches from the corner of her eyes as Peter’s chewing pauses when the correct answer is “phallus.”

May gives a comment about the question being inappropriate for television.

Taking advantage of May’s distraction as a _double Jeopardy_ question comes up, Michelle reaches for Peter’s foot beside her underneath the table. This earns a quick, appointed glance before shoving another forkful of food in his mouth.

“You seem like something’s on your mind, Peter?”

Under his breath only for her to hear, “she wasn’t supposed to come for another thirty minutes.” May. It's about May’s eagerness for the visit.

Michelle chuckles into her knuckles, quietly. "I can help with that," she offers as she lowers one hand to slide across his knee beneath the table.

Peter 's head whips around to her, and it's a uneasy mixture of realization and fascination and skepticism. Instead of answering, though, his teeth dig into his lip.

When his aunt finally turns back at the start of a commercial break, she squeals catching the two pull away from a silent kiss. She gushes how they’re so cute together, so compatible, how she hopes they will last until old age.

Peter’s sitting rather still with a tight-lipped smile.

“So,” she starts as if just remembering something, "do what have you two been up to besides school and work? Like, what are your friends like? What are the kids up to theses days?" She gestures widely, honestly, and Michelle smiles at how genuine she is.

The other woman shrugs. "It's mostly been school and work for me actually. I mean, sometimes _I_ go out. I have a friend, Keisha, who I went out with last week." She turns to Peter who's rock still and staring _intently_ at a point on the wall, his jaw tight, the muscle jerking. "I can't say for Peter, on the other hand."

She sees his nostrils flare as he suddenly inhales deeply through his nose at her last few words. His Adam's apple bobs. He doesn't blink.

May looks to him expectantly.

He snaps back to the conversation. Swallows. Clears his throat. "I'm—it's been... _b-busy_. The usual. The, um, I've gotten a promotion in the job at that newspaper," and he swallows again, "the one I—I think I told you about, Aunt May." Fidgets. Rests a fist on his cheek.

The memory sparks and she jumps, finger guns, tells that she remembers that the boss have him a hard time when applying for the position. She then asks how it's been going, knowing that he's been in the business for nearly six months now.

Peter takes a moment to drink from his glass first. Sits straight. His brows are knitting together. "It's gone pretty good, real good. It's—it's fine most of the time. At times there's, like, some competition with some of the other photographers, and then the work—the workload—the—the stress, it's the s-stress that sometimes gets to you, the—the people busy, d-during the rush hours." He drinks again from his glass, but his eyes flutter and a short moan slips out. Quickly covering it up, he turns to Michelle. "This juice is really good, like, _really_ good. Where'd you—where'd you say you bought it from? Again?" His lips smack.

May agrees, turning back to the television for a moment.

Michelle's answer is nonchalant, that's it a freshly _pressed_ fruit blend.

Peter bites the side of his hand, rolling his hips forward. Readjusts in his chair when commercials play and May turns forward to her plate. They eat in silence and without distraction through two more commercial breaks; when the _final Jeopardy_ question is announced, Michelle praises the food prepared, all plates practically empty now. May smiles. Peter leave a peck on Michelle's cheek for showing the buttered broccoli trick. She smacks his knee, lovingly, then her hand returning to glide up his thigh. And then a Chevy commercial runs. Peter sighs. May asks what they’re doing for the upcoming holidays.

He answers unevenly. “We—we’re probably going to do some decorating, maybe some that we —if we c-can afford—if we can decorate, you know—”

“Afford?” May finishes for him. “Is that the problem? If you need help, I’ll send you two money. You know that. Decorating should be a fun time!”

Michelle rests her free hand against her cheek. “Sometimes it’s a bit hard to do.” Peter thickly swallows. “It’s most definitely hard!”

The show returns from commercial break but May merely glances from her dinner plate. Peter’s grip on his utensil is tighter than usual, and then he skillfully turns a moan into a coughing fit. This alarms his aunt and asks if he’s getting sick. He shakes his head frantically, begins complimenting the fish she cooked. Gives a violent shutter. Breaks into another barely disguised coughing.

Plates are finished, the episode ends, and another begins directly after, taking May's attention.

Peter closes his eyes for a few seconds before his aunt brings up, “there’s a party with my book club next Saturday. They’re having a holiday party and there’s going to be food. I'd like you two to come.”

Clears his throat. Prays he appears nonchalant. “O-oh?” “What time?” Michelle asks, much more steadily than he.

“Around seven, maybe,” May gives, turning away and not seeing the way Peter bites his lip, his brows knitting together.

On screen, the contestants give their backstories and taking May’s attention, to which Peter is grateful, as his mouth falls open to relieve a shaky sigh, his eyes closed. Michelle whispers about going out would be a good, satisfying idea.

“ _Oh my God_ —M-MJ, please...” It's a near inaudible whisper. His teeth dig roughly into his bottom lip as his eyebrows arch upward almost in concern.

May makes a comment about the several jobs one of the Jeopardy contestants has had to juggle, then, “I admire him. I could not imagine going through that, right?” Her look bounces between the two but settles on Peter, so he responds.

“That’s def-definitely a...a _handful!_ ” Covers his mouth with a hand. Hisses to the woman beside him.

Whenever May turns away, Michelle’s light teasing turns into outright groping and fondling.

Peter’s head falls back across the chair. May cheers for a contestant doubling her money. Peter has to hold back a noise when Michelle’s teeth briefly attach to the skin behind his ear, her hand never stopping. May huffs in disappointment when a contestant looses half of her money. Michelle fondles Peter under the table and he begins to worry if he’ll show through his pants and if she should _stop_. That, and it’s getting more difficult to hold in his noises when she begins paying attention solely to his tip. It’s when Peter registers the growing constriction of his pants between barely contained shutters and carefully controlled breathing that he has to swat Michelle's hand away.

" _Enough_ ," is the harsh hiss in her direction.

"What was that?" May spins around; Michelle's hands return to her own space. "Peter are you sure you're ok? You're turning awfully red."

Forcing a look of frustration, he lies. "I just remembered there was this thing I had to get to. For work. And send it to my boss before midnight. Mm hm. I'll get chewed out for it, if I don't. Just frustrated, is all."

Swiftly moving from the table, May stands and begins gathering her plate. "Oh! Alright then, I'll get and leave you to it, Peter."

With Michelle's offer, the two begin gathering the dishes, leaving Peter at the table where he excuses himself to the bathroom. The two women continue conversing as they other leftovers and clean the dishes, Peter disappearing into his bedroom. After what feels like hours but couldn't be more than another forty minutes, May offers for Michelle to the chocolate store down the road, but she's turned down politely.

"Actually May, I have some work I really need to get done tonight too. Tomorrow I have errands to run, and," she puts on a sympathetic smile. "I can go next time!"

It's clear how she's a little disappointed in the hesitation, her hand wave, the shrugged-off, "oh, that's fine, honey."

"Really, May. Next time?"

They depart with smiles and tight hugs in the doorway. Michelle insists that she be sent a text when May makes it home.

No more than two minutes go by when Michelle feels a pair of hands cup her backside and there's breathing down her neck. Peter asks if May had gone, hearing the front door close. Michelle grips her phone between her hands. She's leaning against the dinning room table, feels his mouth continuing where he'd left off earlier, hands roaming, groping. The hint of a growl underlining his scolding of her being "such a freaking tease, a damn dirty tease," pulling her close so she feels the earnest of his words against the back of her pants, his hand sliding to work the heat between her thighs until she sighs and her knees weaken and out slips a needy keen for him as his teeth drag down her skin. And then he's holstering her in his arms and carrying her to their room and forewarning that she's going to have to get what's coming to her before placing her on his desk, forces her knees apart to draw closer....

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it or hate it? Please, please, please let me know :)


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